Part One

Jesse could hear hushed voices, filtering into his grate, the way that sun did sometimes in the early hours, in tiny slits that weren't real enough to quench his need to see the real sun, to be outside, to be free. It was the lab and this grate every single day. He'd lost track of the days with no real way to count them, but it must have been months, had to have been months.

Maybe today, maybe today was the day they ended it for him, put him out of his misery so he could rest at last without Jesse and Andrea paying for it. It'd be oh so good to sleep. Just sleep, forever.

He was sick, probably from the lab and the fact that they didn't bother to give him a mask, the fact that he didn't have an actual bed and the fact that he hadn't had a bath since he had come here. His hands were infected where they'd removed his nails one day and they were swollen over… He had no hope. His last hope had been Mr. White. And Mr. White had left him here for spite.

He thought of Jane, of her pretty, soft black hair and her kind eyes. At least she wasn't in danger. She was sleeping. She hadn't suffered, and maybe, just maybe he'd be with her soon. Maybe he had suffered enough for that one bit of peace, back in her arms.

"Yeah, I know, but we were just going to kill him anyway. Plus this settles my debt." He recognized the voice as the man that Todd called Uncle Jack.

"What kinda debt you got with this guy, anyway?" That was Kenny, Jack's right hand.

"Business dealings I couldn't deliver on. Merle let me off the hook, but I owe him one. He said he's interested in what I can provide with our little captive here. We don't have any use for him anymore."

Jesse shivered. They were going to sell him. Sell him, or give him away… God, this could only get worse.

They opened the grate and Jesse started pleading desperately.

"I'll be good, I swear… I don't want… please don't."

"Shut up," Jack grumbled, "I'll be glad to be done with your whining once and for all."

Jesse shut his eyes, trying to stop the tears that started to flow from them. When would he be done? Wasn't this enough for whoever was up there watching?

He felt them yank the chain, and his entire body flooded with pain, leaving him unable to even scream. Before he could react properly to that, he found himself lifted and shoved into the trunk of a car.

God, not another trunk, please.

He was too old to be frightened of the dark, but terror tensed up every bone in his body. Where were they going? What horrible thing could be waiting around the next corner? Was he going to be harvested for organs? Medical research? Just as a sex slave?

"Please," he whispered against the dark. There wasn't any answer.

Jesse must have slept, but it was hard to tell. The next thing he knew, there was real light shining down on him. He was still in the trunk and there was a man looking down at him. A man with short brown hair that was awkwardly cut, who was looking at him with curiosity.

"Seriously?" the man asked.

"Hey, don't look at us. This is what your brother wanted," Jack commented. The man looked at him with a bemused gaze.

"You know there's a man in there," he commented.

Jack rolled his eyes.

"If you can call him that. He's a pathetic little rat we got ahold of. Cooked for us, but we don't have much need of him anymore. Your brother can do what he wants with him. He don't put up much of a fight."

Jesse was surprised to see the man's eyes soften a little. Or maybe it was his imagination, false hope again.

"All right," the man said eventually, "Let me put him in my car. If Merle says the debt's repaid, he'll let you know." He reached out and easily picked up Jesse, so skinny and light now, and Jesse shivered, too terrified to even struggle. He'd be in another trunk, in another… but Jesse was confused as the man opened a door and placed him across two leather seats. He could hear Jack and Kenny laughing hysterically behind him, and could feel rather than see Todd's calm smile. Jesse curled into a ball, too terrified to move.

"Glad I didn't take the bike," Jesse heard the man mutter, "Merle needs to give me a heads up next time. Is that so much to ask?"

There was the sound of the car starting up, pulling off the dirt road and going…somewhere. Jesse stayed glued to his spot, unable to see anything except his own tattered pants, his head pressed hard against one of his knees.

"Hey."

Jesse wasn't sure if he actually heard the word, or if it was all in his head until it was repeated.

"Hey."

He should say something in reply, shouldn't he? Would he get beaten worse if he replied, seen as a smartass, or if he didn't, seen as being rude and get beaten for that?

He uncurled slightly, not daring to raise his eyes.

"Hey," he replied.

"You got a name?" the man inquired. The question almost threw Jesse for a loop. It'd been months since anyone had called him by his name. Even that harsh, exasperated growl that was in the back of his head – "JESSE! What is WRONG with you?" – seemed like it was addressing someone else.

Finally he managed, in a frightened voice, "Jesse."

He'd seen enough movies to picture a reply – That's not your name. You don't have a name. You're property. You're dirt. You're…

"Hey, Jesse. I'm Daryl. Nice to meet you. Not best of circumstances."

Jesse must have passed out in the back seat. Compared to the hard concrete, it was the most comfortable surface he had ever experienced.

When he stirred awake, he'd been uncuffed and was still lying across the backseat, with the man… Daryl… craning his head out of the open window and arguing with someone.

"Merle, what the hell is your problem?"

Jesse couldn't see the other person, could only hear his voice, deep and low and with more of a Southern accent than Daryl's.

"Listen baby brother, I'm glad you came through for me, but you can just hand over the merchandise and we can get back to business."

"Merle, that's a guy back there, and I'm not real okay with this. What do you even want him for?"

"Hell if I know. I hooked Jack up a while back and I wanted him to pay up… instead he offered me his former meth cook. Said he was a pretty little thing too. I'm sure we can figure out something to do with him."

"So basically… you bought a slave… and you don't even know why?"

"How many people nowadays can say they've got one, Daryl?"

Daryl sighed in exasperation.

"How about this, Merle… Why don't you leave him to me? I'll look after him. He could help me with…" He trailed off. "But first he needs a hell of a lot of recuperation." Merle, whoever that was, apparently Daryl's brother, laughed.

"Sure. Fuck if I care. Don't say I never gave you nothing, baby brother."

Jesse heard footsteps walking away, tapping against gravel. Then Daryl was back, looking at him, too quick for Jesse to curl back up in safety. Jesse made a little squeak sound of fear and tried to hide his head.

"Hey," Daryl coaxed, and Jesse raised his head in surprise. "You hungry?"

Jesse looked up, daring slightly to meet Daryl's eyes. Looking at him straight on, with his good eye at least, he noticed the kinder gaze again, and hesitated, not sure whether to hope that this could be true.

"Wendy's okay? This is some… chicken bacon thing." Daryl extended his hand, and Jesse hesitated again. Back in the compound, everything had been conditional. Food and water, and even then a lot of the water had tasty salty and the food had been crusts left over from when Todd and the others ordered pizza, which was about twice a week. He was pretty sure they'd spit on it on purpose, too.

Jesse opened his good eye wide.

"Please," he begged, realizing suddenly just how much his stomach ached. He was thirsty, too. "And… and water please?" He was desperate.

To his surprise, Daryl handed him the wrapped sandwich without toying with him, and reached down and handed him a bottle of water, pressing it into his other hand.

"Dig in," he commented. "Would've asked what you wanted, but you were out cold. Figured I'd let you sleep. You seemed to need it."

Jesse nodded very slowly, staring back and forth between his hands and trying to decide which to deal with first. He eventually settle with glancing at the sandwich on the leather seat and opening the water bottle with that hand, pouring it into his mouth needily.

"Thank you," he whispered, as the water seemed to flow over his tongue, relieving some of the parched feeling he'd been carrying for months now.

"Hey, no problem," Daryl told him. "You need to get your strength up, I'll be bringing you back to my place."

"Wait," Jesse whispered, "Andrea and Brock… I…"

Daryl looked at him, and Jesse immediately wondered if he shouldn't have said anything. Maybe he had just passed them as a trump card from one captor to another. But something in Daryl seemed… seemed different. Seemed safer.

"Who are they?"

"My… my ex and her little boy. Those other guys know where they live, they threatened to hurt them… I…"

Daryl opened the driver's side door and walked around to open Jesse's door.

"I'll call in some favors, get some guys to watch out for them and make sure they're safe."

Jesse curled up and started to sob in relief, wishing that he could stop crying. Why did he keep crying?

"Hey," Daryl told him, putting a hand on his shoulder. Jesse flinched away from the touch. "As soon as I'm done with my business, I'll drop you off right where they are. All three of you will be safe and sound, okay? Unless, I mean, you don't want to since she's an ex."

Jesse shook his head.

"No… Bring me there. Please. I love them. I… what's your business? Do you want me to cook? I can cook… 96%..."

"Listen. I don't need you to cook," Daryl cut him off. "I've got a problem I need to solve and I need an extra man for backup."

"What… what kind of problem?" Jesse raised his head, and Daryl reached into his pocket and pulled out a picture. A glossy photo of a woman with short, cropped blonde hair and a little girl. "Who're they?"

"My girlfriend and her daughter. They've been kidnapped, and we're going to bring them home."